


Can Anybody Find Me (Somebody to Love)

by tomorrowisforeverallours



Category: Easy Allies RPF, Gametrailers RPF
Genre: Multi, Online Dating, Pining, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Texting, brief mention of ellismoore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 00:29:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8555584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomorrowisforeverallours/pseuds/tomorrowisforeverallours
Summary: "But - " Huber's voice caught in his throat, and Ian was watching him, and in that moment there were so many things that Huber wanted to say: there's no way you're dying alone, there's no way i'd LET you die alone, anyone would be lucky to have you, you're funny and intelligent and if i stop lying to myself you're attractive as FUCK, you deserve so much...But the only words that Huber could stutter were, "You – you can't just give up.""Eh, I mean, I guess not," Ian said. "What, you gonna find me some hot person to spend the rest of my life with?" It was a clear challenge, judging by Ian's sparkling eyes and raised eyebrows."Heh, sure," Huber said distantly, his voice betraying the tornado of thoughts in his head. "Operation Find Ian Somebody To Marry And Grow Old With is a-go."





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started this sometime in December of 2015 and finally managed to wrap it up. I'm not completely sure how proud of it I am but it's the longest work I've finished in a while and I'm excited to finally get to share it ^^
> 
> This is a fictional work about fictional characters, based on the internet personas of real people. As such, there will be inaccuracies. He/him pronouns are used for Ian in part because Ian uses these pronouns in a professional setting, which this is based on. Also, I wrote half of it before the fandom transitioned to she/her pronouns. :/

"...so our hope here on Mandatory Update is that the newest game in this long-beloved franchise does not do what the last one did, which is rip our still-beating hearts out of our chests and smash them to bits, and then light them on fire," said Ian, looking past the camera as though nothing was worth living for. "Like my last girlfriend did..."

Elyse waited a moment for effect, then patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. "That's the show for this week!"

"That's the show!"

Huber had been their "Prompter Wizard" for many an episode, and the forlorn jokes about Ian's love life (or lack of it) never failed to hit him hard. This particular afternoon was worse than normal – he was so absorbed in trying to analyze Ian's statement that he let the prompter swerve left, startling everyone by the sudden movement.

"Whoa!"

"Huber, buddy, what's up?" asked Elyse, raising an eyebrow at him knowingly, although there was no way she was actually thinking what he was thinking. "Distracted by Ian, huh?"

"Oho!" Ian let out a laugh, shifting in his seat. "That true, Hubesly?"

"No," Huber mumbled, knowing that his face was bright red and that the camera was picking up every second of this. He almost asked about it then, but held his tongue; Ian's sucky love life didn't need any more screentime. "Weren't you guys ending?"

"Geez, so eager to get out of here."

"Huber just doesn't want to admit he thinks I'm beautiful on camera," said Ian, tossing his hair back in a dramatic fashion that was less impressive because of his short hair, but still fabulous. "Alright then, thanks for watching! Good night, good game!"

"Stay gold, Ponyboy... stay gold..." Elyse tacked on, nodding solemnly at the camera even as the rest of them burst into laughter and Huber switched off the prompter.

"Good show, everybody, good show," Kyle said, as he did after almost every recording. He started packing up right away, as he was dashing off to stream, but the rest of them were slightly less hurried. Elyse adjusted her dress and stood, moving to check on the footage, and Ian groaned incoherently and slumped against the arm of the couch, and that was when Huber saw the opportunity to ask the question on his mind.

He maneuvered around the prompter to flop down on the couch next to Ian, throwing one arm on the couch behind him. "Hey, Ian?"

"Heyyy, Huber," Ian responded wearily, shifting so their thighs were pressed together on the couch. He had once confided to Huber that physical contact was reassuring for him, grounding, and Huber was beginning to wonder what made that the case. "Whassup?"

"Why do you always make those jokes?"

Ian raised an eyebrow, curly hair falling into his face. "Uhh, that's my job? That's what ManUps is? I dunno what you're getting at, Huber."

"The – you know, the jokes about romance and your past relationships. The really negative ones."

"I'unno," Ian shrugged. "They're funny, usually. And it's relatable content for a lot of our viewers."

"Yeah, but – they can't all be _true._ "

"Mmm... nah, they're mostly accurate. I haven't had much luck in the way of romance, Huber," Ian said plainly, blue eyes locked on Huber and his distressed expression. "I've pretty much resigned myself to the idea of dying alone."

"But - " Huber's voice caught in his throat, and Ian was watching him, and in that moment there were so many things that Huber wanted to say: _there's no way you're dying alone, there's no way i'd LET you die alone, anyone would be lucky to have you, you're funny and intelligent and if i stop lying to myself you're attractive as FUCK, you deserve so much..._

But the only words that Huber could stutter were, "You – you can't just give up."

"Eh, I mean, I _guess_ not," Ian said. "What, you gonna find me some hot person to spend the rest of my life with?" It was a clear challenge, judging by Ian's sparkling eyes and raised eyebrows.

"Heh, sure," Huber said distantly, his voice betraying the tornado of thoughts in his head. "Operation Find Ian Somebody To Marry And Grow Old With is a-go."

* * *

Huber hadn't actually been serious when he said "Operation Find Ian Someone To Marry And Grow Old With" was a-go – it was just a joke, an offhand comment made while he was distracted. He certainly didn't expect _Ian_ to take it seriously.

But apparently he had, because after work the next day, he came down to their office all packed up and ready to go instead of just leaving, and loudly asked from the doorway, "You finished yet, Huber?"

"Uh, almost," Huber said distractedly, his eyes focused on the review script he was trying to conclude. "What's up?"

"Ugh." Ian huffed instead of answering his question, stalking into the room and plopping down into Ben's empty chair. He let it spin aimlessly back and forth.

Huber glanced at him while backspacing, blinking to focus his eyes after staring at a white computer screen for hours. "I mean, you don't gotta wait up for me, Ian. There something you wanna talk about or somethin'?"

"Nah, I was thinking you could help me rework my dating profiles," said Ian nonchalantly. "Yanno, for Operation Somebody to Love. That's my new name for it, by the way."

"...huh?"

Huber was almost sure he'd heard wrong, because he couldn't comprehend exactly what Ian had said until he repeated it. "Operation Somebody to Love," he said, singing the name in a beautiful rendition of ABBA. "Online dating profiles? Yanno, to find me a hot date? Unless you were joking about helping me out."

Huber had indeed been joking, but now that he was faced with the actual opportunity, it was inconceivable that he would decide against helping Ian out. That was what he wanted, right? To find Ian "somebody to love?" Of course it was.

"N-no, I'll totally help you out!" Huber exclaimed, and Ian let out a visible sigh of relief.

"Thanks, Huber. You don't know how much this means to me," he said, blue eyes filled with honesty, and Huber felt his heart clench. How long had Ian been this lonely? He never seemed desperate – in fact, Ian usually had a pretty casual, disinterested attitude when people came on to him at bars or parties with the crew. How much of that was a front?

"Uhh, Huber?"

"Huh?" Huber jumped, shaken out of his thoughts and realizing with a blush that he had been staring at Ian, who was similarly red. "S-sorry, let me just finish this up. Did you want to go to my place, or..."

"Yeah, I'd rather _not_ have Omar making fun of me while we do this. 'Sides, we can play games afterwards or somethin'?"

"Sure." Huber went into intense focus on the last one hundred words of his review, pounding them out while Ian wasted the time away on some mobile game. When finally he finished and shut down his computer, he looked over to find Ian watching him with hooded eyes, legs sprawled out in front of him.

"Y' all done?" He drawled.

"Yep! Let me just pack up and we can get out of here." Huber threw his stuff into a haphazard pile, shrugging on the sweatshirt draped over the back of his chair and standing. "You good?"

"Mhmm." Ian had slid halfway down in the chair and now attempted to find purchase on the carpet to push himself up, to no avail; he squeaked as he kept continually sliding down in Ben's pleather chair. Huber laughed and stepped up to grab his hands, pulling him to his feet in one swift motion and leaving the two of them suddenly face to face.

"O-oh – " Huber stuttered. His feet didn't quite obey his thought that he should back up, put some space between them.

"Hey there," Ian chuckled, bumping their foreheads together. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here."

He kept a hold of Huber's hands to pull him along and Huber tried to ignore the weird rhythm his heartbeat had decided to follow as they left the office.

* * *

The commute was pretty short, and soon enough the two of them were pulling into Huber's apartment complex lot. They fell easily into step together and Ian started chattering about some new TV show he'd started watching, and it was so familiar that Huber had forgotten the purpose of this hangout until they were pressed together on his couch, staring at the Tinder app.

"So..." Huber said awkwardly while the app opened, "What are we doing?"

"I'unno, trying to make my profile more appealing? Snazzying it up? Is that how this works?"

"I'unno, sure I guess?"

Ian sighed and threw his head back against the couch, then winced and rubbed his neck. "Ow, fuck." Huber half-smiled to himself, slipping an arm up for Ian to use as a headrest, which he did so gratefully. "Dude, I thought you were supposed to know what you were doing when it came to this kinda stuff!"

"What, dating? Where the hell did you get that idea, Ian?"

"I dunno, you seem like you have pretty good relationships. At least, they don't all end with you sobbing into a tub of ice cream."

Huber shrugged and neglected to point out the fact that he hadn't been in a truly serious relationship for at least the last year. Sure, he had flings, and a lot of the people he had seen were nice, but they never felt _right_. And Michael Huber was a strong believer in finding the right one.

Cue helping Ian. Huber took the proffered phone and flipped to the profile page, immediately cracking up at the sassy black-and-white photo of Ian being used as his profile picture. "Oh God, that's perfect, keep that."

"Heh, I thought you'd like it."

"I _love_ it." He skipped through a few more photos, noting the familiar studio background on a couple of them, and then slid down to the rest of his bio. Most of Ian's profile was self-explanatory: interests included video games, music, film production, and "offending bigots by being fabulous;" Huber got a real kick out of that one.

"I tried to be creative," said Ian as Huber slid down to his bio.

"Oh, I'm sensitive; just ask my soap, lotion… dude, are you for real?" Huber said disbelievingly, grinning at Ian. "Is your skin really that bad?"

"Yeah! You don't wanna see me break out, I promise. It's super soft though, feel!" Ian tilted his head and tapped his cheek with one finger, almost as if he were asking for a _kiss_ , Huber thought. Feeling like this was getting to be painfully intimate, Huber brushed the back of his knuckles against Ian's cheek – yeah, okay, he did have super soft skin – and then, to break the much-too-comfortable silence and disrupt the weird feelings in his chest, he gave Ian a playfully sharp slap and then turned back to his phone.

"Ah!" Ian bumped his shoulder. "Rude."

"I'm sorry, Ian!"

"Aww, you're a sweetheart."

They spent the next ten or fifteen minutes debating changes to Ian's Tinder bio, and Huber made some slight edits to make Ian feel like his odds of getting a date had improved. Huber didn't really think it _needed_ any changes, but then again, he would have been interested in Ian no matter what his profile said, so he couldn't really judge. (He wasn't interested in Ian, though. They were just friends.)

Finally, Huber handed Ian's phone back and slumped against the couch. "That good?"

"Hmm…" Ian scrolled through it quickly. "It'll do, I guess. Now, let's see." He slouched next to Huber, resting his head on Huber's shoulder, and navigated back to start swiping, tilting the screen when he wanted Huber to see a certain picture or profile. "Eh… no… she's cute – oh God, 'Republican and proud,' nevermind. Oh – what's this?"

A smirk crept slowly onto Ian's face, which made Huber sit up. "What is it?"

Ian said nothing, but tilted the phone towards him – oh, that was his own face, grinning back at him. Huber flushed and half-chuckled nervously, which only made Ian's smirk grow. "Huber, you have a Tinder?"

"Yeah, I mean, why not?" Huber hadn't used it very often, and really only made a profile to give himself the illusion that he was going to try dating.

"I'unno, I just didn't peg you as the kind of guy to do online dating." Ian gave him the side-eye for a moment before scrolling through Huber's profile; Huber tried not to die of embarrassment. "Aww, you're cute. You know what I have to do now, right?"

"Huh?"

Ian locked eyes with him, grinning as he held the phone up and then deliberately swiped right. Huber flushed, his face prickling with warmth as he felt his own phone vibrate with a notification in his pocket. "Uh…"

"Well?"

Oh God, Ian Hinck was going to be the death of him. Huber slipped his phone out and flipped to Tinder, glancing at Ian's hopeful expression and swiping right automatically. The screen flashed with the words "It's a match!" and Ian's grin was blinding. "There we go! Now we have another way to communicate, at the very least, haha."

"Yeah, I guess so." Huber knew that there really was no difference, but the idea of using Tinder to message Ian seemed much more, well, intimate than just texting him or talking to him at work. It didn't mean anything, though – Ian was just joking around. So Huber tried to put it out of his mind. "So you wanna, uh, order food or somethin'?"

"Sure."

"Cool."

* * *

 

Sunday, September 18th

**Ian**

12:05pm

_Heyyy :)_

**Michael**

12:34pm

_HEY_

12:35pm

_Oops caps lock_

**Ian**

12:36pm

_Lol I'm not convinced that was an accident_

12:36pm

_Anyway_

12:37pm

_You filming again for manups this week?_

**Michael**

12:37pm

_If you want me to_

**Ian**

12:39pm

_Of course I want you to! Lol silly_

12:39pm

_Unless you're too busy or something_

**Michael**

12:39pm

_NO!_

12:40pm

_Im not too busy I mean_

**Ian**

12:40pm

_Oh_

12:41pm

_Okay :D_

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a blur of recording and streaming and general day-to-day hype; some of the year's hottest games were coming out and the entire office was swamped with games to play. Huber's queue was probably a mile long and Ian was on his 5th playthrough of Bloodborne, all of which meant they didn't have much time for Operation Somebody To Love.

Ian _had_ apparently chatted up a couple of girls, but nothing came of any of their conversations. He kept Huber up to date on all of his shenanigans through Tinder, along with sending him the occasional meme and chatting about video games.

It became their own little secret form of communication, and Huber loved it. The only problem was that – well, it made Huber feel like he was someone Ian wanted to date, which he knew was not the case. Even if Huber wished it was.

It was a problem easily ignored, though, or at least that's what Huber told himself.

That is, until Ian came into work one day with a grin that was too big to hide and a skip in his step that was most unlike him. "Heyyy, Huber," he drawled upon encountering him in the kitchen, blue eyes lit up.

"Hey, Ian. You're certainly jolly this morning," said Huber, flipping on the coffeepot.

Ian smiled secretively.

"Yeah, I, uh, had a date yesterday," he admitted.

"O-oh." Huber tried not to let his smile fall too far; he probably failed. "Uh, how'd it go?"

"Good! I think I'm seeing her again this weekend." Ian smoothed his hair back, bashful smile blinding. He put a kettle on for tea, brushed Huber's arm with his fingertips as a silent sign of gratitude, and then scampered off towards his office, leaving Huber to stare after him and muddle through his thoughts.

So Ian had a date. That was fine – that was the point, actually. Huber wanted Ian to go on dates. Ian'd seemed happy, hopeful for the first time in a while. Huber was happy for him, right?

And he was, really, but there was this pang of something that Huber was afraid to identify as jealousy. Because _he_ wanted to be the one going out on dates with Ian, really. He wanted to sit across from Ian at candlelit dinner tables and casually wrap his arm over Ian's shoulder in a movie theater and maybe, just maybe, kiss Ian goodnight at his front door, watch his eyelashes flutter in some cliche storybook way and his lips curl up in a smile meant only for Huber.

But he couldn't, and Huber reminded himself of that with a sharp pinch. His job was to find Ian somebody to love, and that was what he was going to do.

And God, if Huber was normally a ray of sunshine then Ian was the sun for the rest of the week.

Everything went smoothly recording-wise, except Mandatory Update took twice as long to record because Ian kept cracking jokes and getting distracted. Elyse didn't even complain, surprised by the attitude change.

"What's up with him?" She asked, when Ian had run off to fetch a prop they needed for a sketch.

Huber shrugged, throat tight. "He's just happy, I guess."

"...huh." Elyse shot him a strange look, and Huber swallowed nervously. But she didn't press the issue.

Friday couldn't come fast enough. Ben, Brad and Kyle were doing an RPG stream, so he'd got off the hook for tonight, at least. Not that he had anything to do except sit on his couch and watch Vikings, which is exactly what he was doing when his phone buzzed with a Tinder message.

**Ian**

7:42pm

_Hey_

Huber's brow furrowed in confusion – wasn't Ian on his date? With how excited he'd been about it, it didn't seem like he'd get distracted. He tapped out a quick response.

**Michael**

7:42pm

 _Hey what's up?_  

**Ian**

7:44pm

_Are you busy rn?_

**Michael**

7:45pm

_Not really, just watching tv_

7:45pm

_Why?_

7:45pm

 _Is something wrong? Aren't u on a date rn?_  

Ian typed for a while, the three blinking dots tormenting Huber. What was he saying? Was he okay? Then he must have erased all of it, because the response Huber got was painfully short.

**Ian**

7:48pm

_She canceled_

**Michael**

7:48pm

!!!!!!!!! 

"Holy shit," Huber said aloud, a fist closing around his heart and squeezing tight. He was just beginning a long sympathy message when Ian replied, shooting messages at him as though he was trying to reassure both of them.

**Ian**

7:48pm

_But not bc she doesnt like me!_

7:49pm

_She got caught late at work and has a lot of stuff to do_

7:49pm

_Which is understandable_

7:49pm

_So its whatever haha_

7:49pm

_Point is_

7:49pm

_Now I dont have anything to do tonight_

7:49pm

_So I was wondering if maybe I could swing by and we could hang out?_

Huber didn't even think about what his response would be. The fact that Ian's date had canceled left a sour taste in his mouth, but he wasn't about to leave Ian hanging for the rest of the night. And there _was_ a little part of him, just a _little_ part, that felt oddly triumphant at the notion that Ian was hanging out with him instead of whoever this girl was.

**Michael**

7:50pm

_Of course!!! Come on over!!!_

7:50pm

_I'll make dinner_

**Ian**

7:50pm

_Lol you dont have to_

7:50pm

_Thatd be like i'm trading one date for another ;)_

7:50pm

_But i'm not gonna turn down free food!_

7:51pm

_See you in a little while :)_

* * *

Her name was Laura, apparently. She was 28, a dental assistant somewhere farther out of the city, liked dogs and hiking and classical music, and was "like, super cute." Huber wanted her to disappear. 

The worst part was that he couldn't even dislike her, because she was _nice_.

At first Huber had deluded himself into imagining Laura as some sort of temptress, a witch, enchanting Ian with sickly-sweet words and a flash of skin, until he reminded himself that was sexist and unwarranted by the fact that he might have had a thing for the guy. (Might have had was quickly becoming just "had".)

But no, he met her, on a warm Wednesday afternoon leaving the office with Ian, who was talking at almost Huber-speed about his evening plans. The brunette flagged them down outside, but she didn't have to -- as soon as Ian spotted her he was dragging Huber by the arm across the parking lot.

"Hey, Laura! This is Huber!" He shouted needlessly, bouncing on his toes and thrusting Huber forward with a grin.

Huber stumbled, keeping his balance only by Ian's grip on his shoulders. They traded introductions and Huber noted the undoubtedly indie band logo on her shirt. Fitting.

"Hi! It's nice to meet you, but Ian, we're going to be late if we don't get going," said Laura, with an apologetic nod towards Huber.

"Oh, shit."

"It's cool, go ahead, have fun," said Huber. "See you tomorrow?"

"Of course, man! Have a good night!" Ian grabbed her hand and swung it between the two of them as they walked away, glancing over his shoulder at Huber with a little smile that he couldn't help but return.

So she was _nice_ , and she was plain but pretty and had a bright smile that matched Ian's, and she wasn't much for video games but she did like board games, and she sent Ian to work with cookies that Huber was downright envious of. He made sure to get the recipe.

And God, Ian seemed _happy_ with her. So, so happy.

He was optimistic about the future for the first time since Huber had met him, and Huber couldn't help but wonder why it was that a mere relationship could change Ian's worldview so drastically. Was he really that lonely? He didn't like trying to psychoanalyse him, though, so Huber didn't worry too much about it.

And Huber thrived off the happiness of his friends. So if Ian was content with Laura as his girlfriend, then Huber was happy too, right?

* * *

 

Well, a couple of weeks passed, and Huber realized that trying to make himself believe that wasn’t working out quite as well as he hoped.

Okay, he'd given up trying to deny it. Huber was an overly honest man, so he figured he may as well come clean and be honest with himself – he was completely and utterly head over heels for Ian Hinck, and his bright blue eyes and tinkerbell laughter and soft soft skin and –

And, well, just about everything else about him.

But he was clueless about what to do about it, and so Huber did what he always did when he was clueless about something – he went to Brad.

"Hey, dude. Man, you know it's like midnight, right? What's up?"

"Yo." Huber cradled his cell between shoulder and ear as he bustled around making a late-night cup of coffee. Ian had left just a little while ago – video games and dinner at Mike's place had become a weekly thing – and he was so high off the experience of spending time with him that Huber knew it would be hard to sleep. "Yeah, I know. Are you busy?"

"No, well, uh, B-Ben's here..." Brad cleared his throat roughly, hesitating, "...But no, it's fine."

"Oh, yeah?" Huber quirked an eyebrow. Nobody ever bothered to drive all the way out to Brad's, and he never invited anyone over, unless… Huber grinned. _Fucking finally_. "Can I say hi to him?"

"Sure, want me to put you on speaker?"

"Nah just – uh, hand me to him."

Huber could _hear_ Brad shrug – after 22 years, all his vocal inflections were familiar. "Alright." There was some inaudible conversing in the background and then rustling as the phone was handed over.

 "Hey, Mike! What's up?"

Oh, sweet, innocent Ben Moore. Huber knew he didn't really have to give this talk, Ben was the best possible person for him, but he'd done it for every one of Brad's partners since that girlfriend he had for three days in 6th grade (and oh, how he was torn up over that, Huber would never let him forget it) so he found it a necessary tradition. Huber didn't bother with formalities or fluff – he dropped his voice low and said what he wanted to say with as serious a voice as possible.

"Ben. You know you're one of my best friends, right?"

"Yeah?"

"But like, Brad is my _best_ friend."

"...yeah? Huber – "

"And if you ever do anything to hurt him I'm going to have to kill you.”

There was silence for a long moment, and Huber could imagine the panicked look that Brad was receiving on the other end. Ben started stammering incomprehensively and Huber grinned, considering his job done. "Good to see we understand each other. Hey, hand me back over to Brad, will you?"

"O-okay…?"

"Thanks, man."

As soon as the exchange occurred ("He's going to murder me," Huber thought he heard in the background) Brad was grilling him. "Dude, what the hell did you say to him? Ben's totally freaking out."

"Nothing, nothing," Huber laughed. He felt a little bad, but it would be a funny story to tell at their wedding, or so he told himself confidently. "Hey, dude, so I do really have a problem. And you probably don't have a solution, but I always feel better when I talk things through with you, so if you and Ben aren't too _busy…_ "

"Dude, get your mind out of the gutter." Brad didn't realize that he'd given them away until after he said it, and Huber could hear his matching splutters as he laughed. "A-anyway, whatever, dude, I've got time. Talk to me."

Huber carefully set his cup of coffee down on the table, and then flopped backwards onto the couch, feet kicking off the edge of the armrest. "Okay. Dude, we gotta talk about Ian."

"When are we not?" Brad muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what did you say?"

Huber waited, knowing Brad was just trying to find the words to say something, intensely curious as to what it was, though he should have guessed. Brad sighed explosively. "Dude, you're in love with him."

"W-w-what?" Huber could feel his face burning as he tried to laugh it off, the words striking a chord with him. "In – in _love_ with him? No, I'm not, come on Brad –"

"Dude, you so are. You've been in love with him for – uh, one year, and like, three days, give or take a couple. I _know_ these things."

"…" Huber groaned and scrubbed at his face, hearing Brad snicker on the other end. "Yeah, okay. Okay. So I'm in love with him. Holy shit, man, I’ve got it so bad.”

“I know, dude.”

“What do I _do_?”

“Just ask him out, dude.”

Brad made it sound so self-explanatory, so _easy_. Huber groaned. “I can’t do that! He’d never look at me that way. And besides, he’s got a girlfriend – like, like, I don’t think they’re _dating_ dating, but they’re hanging out, and he seems to really like her and I want to be happy for him, I want to help him, I want him to be _happy_! And I feel so _bad_ when I can’t be happy for him ‘cause I’m too busy regretting not having the balls to ask him out! I – "

“Whoa, okay Mike, calm down,” Brad interrupted gently. Huber exhaled loudly and reached out to take a drink of his coffee. "Okay, so you're not gonna ask him out. That's understandable – like, I think he'd be a lot more receptive of the idea than you think, but whatever. You're stuck between a rock and a hard place, dude."

"I _know_. I can't distance myself from him. It'd hurt too much."

"You couldn't even try, come on. Remember that time you got pissed at me for spoiling the end of Half-Blood Prince and stopped talking to me? It lasted for like three days."

"Yeah, you're right." Huber sighed. "I'm still pissed at you, by the way."

"No, you're not."

"Okay, I'm not. But I guess… I guess I just have to live with it, then. Get over him." Huber tried to swallow the lump in his throat and couldn't, his voice cracking on the last word.

His best friend sighed fondly. "Alright, dude, don't go that far just yet. Just… hang in there, okay? Take it slow. Keep hangin’ with him, enjoyin’ his company, yanno? It’ll work itself out, and you know. I’ll be here, whatever happens.”

Brad was right, and hearing him say it made Huber feel a little better. He’d just take it day-by-day and try not to think about it too much. Besides, he cherished his time with Ian too much to let it be soured by any sort of jealousy. “Dude, you always know how to make me feel better. You’re the best.”

“Oh, I know.”

* * *

 

Thursday, November 5th

**Michael**

5:32pm

_Hey you busy tonight? Wanna catch a movie?_

**Ian**

8:41pm

_Shit sorry I didn’t see this!!_

8:42pm

_Laura and I were out :P_

8:44pm

_Maybe I can make it up to you? Movie still playin?_

**Michael**

8:47pm

_Nahh it’s whatever haha_

**Ian**

8:47pm

_:( ok then_

* * *

Time flies, they say, but Huber wasn’t sure why, because he couldn’t figure out if he was having fun or eternally suffering. It was sort of both. 

The good – he got to spend time with Ian. _Lots_ of time with Ian, as it turned out, and Huber was thrilled. Their weekly hangouts hadn’t stopped, despite both of them being busy, and he found that sitting with Ian on his ancient floral couch and playing video games or watching something or just _talking_ for hours on end had quickly become the highlight of his week. He was head over heels.

The downside of that was that the more time he spent with Ian, the more Huber had to hear about Laura. And he quickly learned to realize that he did not like Laura.

Huber felt a little bad for judging her – he didn’t know her that well, after all. He told himself that the grudge was fueled in part by his increasing jealousy of her budding relationship with Ian, so he should take it with a grain of salt, but then Ian would mention a comment or opinion of hers and Huber had to question how the two of them ever hit it off in the first place.

“She’s got a thing against pit bulls, dumb if you ask me, but whatever.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t get D an’ D.”

“Nah, Laura doesn’t think there are ‘viable career options in the gaming industry’.”

“ _What_?” Huber nearly choked on his bite of pasta; Ian let out a laugh and made a show of pounding him on the back. “B-but you _have_ a career in the gaming industry! We all do!”

“Oh, come on, Huber, let’s be realistic,” Ian replied, spearing a piece of lettuce. His sunglasses were slipping off the back of his head and Huber reached out to straighten them. “Thanks! Uh, we both know Gametrailers isn’t a forever thing.”

“But…”

It was hard not to let that sting, because he knew Ian was right, Huber knew it and he _hated_ it.

Ian winced at his forlorn expression, patting his hand. “Aww, I didn’t mean to make you sad, baby doll, but come on. GT is a rest stop, a waypoint, if you will. DeFY’s gonna ditch us eventually. Blood’s gonna become a sick race car driver or something, you’re gonna go work for Keighley – “

“Yeah, right.”

“ – and Bosman’s gonna finally assume his position as Master Trash Hobo or somethin’. Simple.”

Huber barked out a laugh, cherishing the way Ian grinned at him. “What about Brandon?”

“Uh, shit, you’re right. What is Brandon without Gametrailers? He’s gonna, uh, well, he’s gonna make a shit-ton of money doin’ something and then invest in technology to make himself a Disney Infinity character and just live in there forever.” Ian was giggling before he even reached the end of his sentence and Huber couldn’t contain his laughter. They were lucky Marcello’s had such a small outside dining area and it was a Monday lunch break, otherwise they would have garnered some strange looks. Not that Huber would have noticed or Ian would have cared.

“What about you?” Huber asked when they’d fallen back into a lull of silence, each of them pausing momentarily to eat.

“Huh?”

“What are you gonna do after – after Gametrailers?”

Ian sighed. “Fuck if I know, man. Roll over and die?”

“ _IAN!_ ”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

Ian didn’t sound very sincere. Huber scowled and threw out a hand to grab his shoulder, squeezing harder than necessary judging by Ian’s pained expression, though Mike took no notice. “Dude. Please don’t say that. I know it’s just a joke but it’s not, really, yanno?”

It was the same thing as Ian’s pessimistic jokes about his love life – Huber knew they were grounded, knew they made sense in the context of Ian’s experiences and struggles, but he hated hearing him joke about it. For Huber they made the issues all too real.

“Yeah, I think I’d know better than you, Huber.” Ian grabbed Huber’s hand off his shoulder and set it back down on the table, but he didn’t look upset or angry, merely slightly melancholic. Still, he cracked a smile. “Nah, I dunno what I’ll do after Gametrailers. Probably get an editing job somewhere else? I don’t like to think about it, really. I know, what a surprise, considering how much I talk about it.”

“Nah, not really. You act like an edgelord, Ian, but you’re an optimist at heart,” said Huber, still lost in thought. He hated that Ian felt like this, but at the same time it was slightly reassuring to know that he was just as invested in Gametrailers as the rest of them.

Ian snorted. “Sure, Hubisoft, whatever you say. Come on, let’s finish eating. I wanna stop by that indie music store on the way back.”

Huber pouted. “Aww, but what if I wanted dessert?”

“Take it to go and we’ll share it back at the office?”

“Okay!”

* * *

 

So, like Huber had said to Brad, spending time with Ian was both a treasure and a curse, depending on the day. He couldn’t very well tell Ian that “Hey, you talking about your girlfriend makes me uncomfortable because I want _you_ to be my girlfriend. Or my boyfriend, or partner, or whatever term you’d prefer. I want you to be with _me._ ” That was some 2008 Taylor Swift vibes that Huber did not want in the equation.

But, to be honest, it sucked.

He wondered if perhaps the feeling would go away if he spent more time with Laura and Ian together. Maybe then he’d realize that the two were made for each other and he’d be able to give up this dumb crush and just go back to being friends with Ian. Isn’t that how it worked?

For Huber, not quite, in part because Laura was always dragging Ian somewhere and he didn’t much feel like intruding. Not even Ian always knew what they were doing.

He was walking Ian down to the road from his apartment one night, both of them still affirming that Tropical Freeze was the best Donkey Kong game, and instead of Ian walking down to the parking garage when they got to the ground floor, he checked his phone and started walking towards the door.

“Um… Ian? Where ya goin’? Your car’s down there,” Huber said with a chuckle, pointing the opposite direction. Ian could be a bit scatterbrained at times; it was cute.

But Ian just opened the other door and shrugged at him. “I, uh, forgot to mention I didn’t drive,” he said as Huber caught up with him. “Took the bus.”

“The bus? Dude, you know you could have asked me for a ride! Come on – “

“No, uh, it’s fine, Laura’s comin’ to pick me up,” Ian interrupted, checking his phone assumedly for a text.

Huber felt his stomach turn. “Oh,” he said softly.

“Yeah. She’ll be here soon, I think, unless she gets lost like Ben always does – oh, nevermind, there she is.” He pointed to a seriously nice-looking silver car, pulling in and parking as though it wasn’t related to Ian at all. “Come on, you wanna say hi?”

“Uh, well –" _No_ , Huber wanted to exclaim, but Ian was grabbing his hand and pulling him along, a skip in his step. And Huber wasn’t about to pull his hand out of Ian’s grip, so he stumbled along after him.

When they got to the car Ian pulled the side door open and leaned down to poke his head in, hair flopping over his eyes. “Hiii!” He tossed his bag in the backseat and then straightened, nudging Huber forward until he could lean down to look in the car as well. “Laura, babe, you remember the one and only _Michael. Huber_?”

Huber swallowed heavily and bent over to poke his head into the car. If his life were a movie, he thought, this would undoubtedly be the part where he would tell her to fuck off and sweep Ian into his arms and kiss him desperately.

Instead he just winced. “Uh, hey.” He waved curtly, meeting eyes with Laura. She was pretty but he didn’t see much of anything remarkable about her, though he wasn’t into girls so it would make sense that he didn’t. Ian probably did.

She was, however, wearing a rather irritated expression and tapping her nails on the steering wheel. “Ian, it was hell getting here, and if we don’t leave now we’re going to miss our dinner reservation.”

“Wait, we have dinner reservations?” Ian asked in surprise, echoing Huber’s thoughts. At least he could be assured that Ian hadn’t deliberately made plans that overlapped with their hangout time.

“Yeah, of course! Come on, get in.”

Ian shrugged and turned around to throw his arms around Huber in a quick hug; Huber lamented that his response time wasn’t fast enough to hug him back. "I'll, uh, see you at work tomorrow, yeah?" he asked, ducking into the car and looking up at Huber earnestly.

"Oh, uh, totally," said Huber. Having Laura sitting there watching them made him too uncomfortable to really show any emotion, but he smiled at Ian nonetheless (because really, it was impossible not to). "See you later, dude."

"See ya, baby doll."

Huber caught the slightest glare from Laura out of the corner of his eye as Ian swung the car door shut. He hopped back a second later to avoid getting run over as she pulled out, speeding out of the parking lot in a manner befitting a Grand Theft Auto player, except GTA'd never had a female protagonist, of course.

Only when their taillights had faded into the darkness did Huber let out a heavy sigh and start walking back towards his tower. He contemplated calling Brad to talk about it but he'd already called him earlier in the day to talk about Overwatch and so even though he knew Brad would be absolutely willing to talk to him, he didn't feel right disturbing him again.

He went back to his apartment, got out the non-dairy ice cream he'd bought for when Ian was over, turned on a Gilmore Girls rerun and tried not to feel _too_ bad for himself.

* * *

 

Thursday, November 12th

**Ian**

7:41pm

_Hey Huber I dont know if I can do tom_

7:41pm

_Feeling rly sick D:_

**Michael**

7:45pm

_Oh no!! Thats totally ok_

7:45pm

_Feel better as soon as posible ok?!?!?_

7:46pm

_Anythng I can do?_

7:46pm

_I'll bring you soup_

**Ian**

7:46pm

_U dont have to its ok_

**Michael**

7:46pm

_Im doin it_

**Ian**

7:46pm

_Lauras gonna check on me anyway_

**Michael**

7:48pm

_Oh_

7:48pm

_Guess I dont have to then_

**Ian**

7:49pm

_Ya I'll be fine_

7:49pm

_I'll be back on Mon_

**Michael**

7:51pm

_Okay_

**Ian**

7:52pm

_Thank u for worrying about me :D :* <3 <3 <3 _

**Michael**

8:01pm

_Of course <3_

* * *

 

"Dude, I'm your friend, so I'm gonna be straight with you. You look like shit." Brad's voice pierced through Huber's noise cancellation headphones, sounding brutally honest.

He didn't look up from his gameplay capture until, "You're always straight with me, Brad," Ian's voice replied. Huber was almost embarrassed by how quickly he jerked in his seat and straightened to just barely peek over the edge of his monitor, his smile quickly dimmed by the realization that Brad was right.

Ian looked tired. Well, he always looked tired, that was a given, but Huber didn't usually notice. (Okay, that was another lie, Huber _always_ noticed. Anyway.) The dark circles under his eyes were markedly pronounced and he still looked flushed, in the way you can feel the blood rush out of your face when you're struck with a sudden bout of nausea.

Huber frowned, eyebrows knitted together in sympathy as he got up from his desk. "Wow, you look almost as tired as Bosman," he joked casually to cover up just how worried he was.

"Hey, shove off," Kyle muttered under his breath, not denying it.

“Oh god, if you’re comparing me to Bosman then I must look _really_ horrible,” Ian teased back, though it didn’t sound nearly as energetic as usual, as he leaned against the doorframe of the bullpen.

"You're right and I hate it," said Kyle.

"What, you hate that you look horrible? Aww, Bossy."

"No, I'm resigned to that. I just hate admitting that you're right."

Ian laughed and it made Huber feel a little better; the sound of his amusement always did. He still walked up to fret over him, even pressing the back of his hand to Ian's forehead in only slightly exaggerated worry. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, taking Friday off was a good idea," Ian answered with a smile, and if Huber wanted to he could delude himself into believing that Ian leaned into his touch. "I don't think I'm out of the woods yet, but at least I can come back to work."

"I'm happy. I missed you," Huber mumbled sincerely under his breath.

Ian quirked an eyebrow. "Oh yeah, Hubesly? Aww. You're a sweetheart." He shrugged off Huber's hand and walked out of the office, waving to him. "See you guys later!"

"Bye… Ian!"

Brad was watching Huber in fond exasperation when he turned back, a dreamy look on his face. "Dude, you're fucked," he said.

"I know, don't remind me."

* * *

 

That day set the stage for a worrying trend. Ian's illness went away after a while, but the circles under his eyes remained, even darkened. The enthusiasm that Huber had so cherished a few months ago only dulled, especially after Elyse announced she was leaving GT to work with her husband at Funhaus.

It struck Ian harder than anyone else, even though he was arguably also the person most excited to see her move on to bigger and better things. Huber couldn't quite make sense of it until he imagined that it was Brad, taking the opportunity of a lifetime but with the consequences of leaving him alone at Gametrailers. Then Huber understood.

But it wasn't just Elyse's departure that hit Ian hard. Huber didn't want to confront him about it, afraid of a negative reaction, but… he had his suspicions.

They still hung out on a regular basis, which is probably how Huber came to notice it in the first place. Ian wouldn't engage in his playful arguments quite as much, wouldn't stay quite as long, and fell asleep on Huber's couch more than once. (Cute, but worrying.)

But hell if he knew what to do about it, besides shoot Ian worried glances every time they were together and surreptitously ask Brad and the others if they had any idea what was wrong. Most of the time they brushed off his worrying with a casual "He's just tired," or "He's working too hard," or "That's just Ian."

But Huber knew it wasn't, and eventually his suspicions were confirmed at the end of a Tuesday workday. He bumped into Ian coming out of the bathroom before he headed home for the night, stumbling backwards with an awkward laugh. "Oh, h-hey, Ian!"

"Sup, Huber," Ian said tiredly, brushing past him. "Have a good night, yeah?"

Huber hesitated, something striking him. "Did you change shirts?"

Ian paused, half-turning back towards him, and Huber could tell he was trying to look casual. "Oh, yeah, I'm seein' Laura tonight and she doesn't particularly... like that shirt."

"But... it's your Strong Female Character," Huber said, perplexed, eyebrows furrowed. "It's a cool shirt! Why shouldn't she like it?"

"Oh, I guess – well, she likes it. Just not on me."

 _Oh._ Huber scowled automatically, the puzzle pieces falling together as though he'd finally finished the border of the picture and could move onto the inside. "Ian... You know..."

"What, Huber?"

What was he supposed to say? He didn't want to assume anything about Ian's gender, and Ian had never said anything explicit to label how he identified, but there was a silent understanding among the nine of them that Ian was solidly not cisgender. And it didn't seem like Ian's girlfriend had the same sense of understanding.

Ian sighed, but didn't start walking away, not yet at least. "It's fine, Mike. I like this shirt better, anyway."

"That's a lie and we both know it."

"What do you want me to say? That yeah, I changed because Laura isn't particularly receptive to my feminine side? 'Cause I did. There, I admitted it, are we done now?" Ian glared at him, and Huber tried to swallow down the urge to flinch and back down, the part of him that needed to please and hated when people were mad at him.

"Ian, I don't want you to admit anything," he tried to explain. "I just... want you to be happy," he said lamely. "I want you to have relationships with people that accept you for who you are."

"Yeah, well, that's not gonna happen," Ian shot back. "Friendships, maybe, but I'm never gonna find someone like that that actually _likes_ me."

"I like you!"

"Not the same thing, Huber! God, you're almost as dense as Hogger sometimes."

Huber flinched. "And you're just as blind as Lailia," he shot back.

"What does that mean?"

"I... nothing," he muttered, losing his nerve when finally faced with the opportunity to confess, maybe _explain_ what Huber'd been feeling for the last four months, perhaps longer. "Look, I – I haven't said anything 'cause I didn't want to make you upset, but… I don't like her."

"Who, Laura? You don't _like_ her?" Ian was incredulous; Huber winced. "Why does it matter if you like her? I'm the one seeing her!"

"Y-yeah, but yanno, as a friend, I'm just trying to look out for you –"

"If you were trying to look out for me," Ian interrupted, glaring at him with steely blue eyes, "you'd be better off keeping your mouth shut, _Michael_. I thought you were going to support me in trying to find somebody to date, not talk shit about them. I've dealt with people who share Laura's views my entire life, and if it's the only way I'm gonna find love then I'm gonna fuckin' _deal_ with it, okay?"

Huber recoiled as if burned, gaping at Ian's utter vitrol.

Did Ian really feel that way? Was he resigned to compromising himself for the rest of his life? Huber felt close to tears at how much it hurt.

Ian's expression didn't soften, the tension still hanging in the air between them with the problem that Huber had brought into the open. "Look, Ian - "

"Whatever, Huber. I'll see you later, I gotta go. Drive home safe, 'kay?" Ian turned on his heel without another word and left, his shoes tapping a beat on the tile that lingered after he'd gone.

Huber stared into nothingness for a moment, then sighed explosively and threw his head back against the wall, hard enough to hurt. "Fuck," he said, now unable to pin down the source of his headache.

Well, at least now Huber had some sort of an answer to the question. His fists clenched at his side as he thought about what this meant, thought about Ian having to keep himself under wraps while he was around someone who claimed to like him, thought about Ian having to perform masculinity to an extent he was clearly uncomfortable with, thought about Ian being _willing_ to do all that just to hold onto a girl that wasn't good for him in the first place.

"Not the same thing." Why couldn't he _see_?

Huber had half a mind to chase after him – the scene played out in his head like a movie, with Huber breathlessly catching up with Ian in the middle of the DeFY lobby, spinning him around and ardently confessing his everlasting love until Ian finally understood, kissing him – but by the time the scene had run its course in his head (complete with cliché dialogue) Huber realized that Ian was almost definitely gone.

And he would never have the courage to do something like that anyway. _Damn._

So what _was_ he to do? Ian was clearly pissed at him; Huber hated even to think of it. But he couldn't bring himself to contact him right away. Ian was busy tonight, wouldn't want Huber bothering him.

So he went home.

* * *

 

Tuesday, December 8th

**Brad**

8:36pm

_Hey dude_

**Michael**

8:36pm

_Brad??? Why did you add me on TINDER_

8:36pm

_You could just text me!!!_

8:37pm

_And why do you have a tinder anyway I thought you were dating Ben_

**Brad**

8:37pm

_Shut up_

8:37pm

_Ur profil needs work btw_

**Michael**

8:37pm

_Fuck u_

8:37pm

_Anyway whats up?_

8:38pm

_Your still wrong btw_

**Brad**

8:40pm

_Fuck no_

8:40pm

_You gotta talk to Ian dude_

**Michael**

8:45pm

_I CANT. Dude he probly hates me after what I said to him and he doesnt want to hear from me I know it. But it sucks so much!! He deserves so much better and I dont wanna be selfish by sayin I could give it to him but Im fuckin in love with him dude and it hurts so bad :'(_

**Brad**

8:46pm

_Uhh_

8:46pm

_Okay dude_

8:46pm

_I know it sucks_

8:47pm

_But im not just sayin you gotta talk to him, he litrally messaged me saying he wanted to talk to you but didnt wanna ask directly bc he felt terrible about what happened_

8:47pm

_Apparantly some shit went down w Laura_

8:47pm

_I think she broke up with him???_

8:55pm

_Your gone arent you_

8:56pm

_Fine_

8:56pm

_Drive safe nerd_

8:57pm

_Wait I didnt even tell you where he was?? fuck_

* * *

 

Huber had scrambled out the door as soon as he'd gotten Brad's messages about Ian, barely remembering to grab his keys and dropping his phone down the stairs in his rush (thank God for screen protectors). His heart was pounding for more than just the exercise.

_Oh no oh God Ian I'm so sorry fuck okay what do I say when I see him oh God baby_

He couldn't stop his hands from shaking as he made his way down to his car, nearly pressing the panic button in his rush to unlock it. Yeah, he didn't like Laura, and he'd made that very clear in his argument with Ian earlier, but did he want her to break his heart by breaking up with him? Of course not. (He vehemently silenced that little part of him that was smug, whispering "Maybe now he'll notice you" into the corner of his mind.)

He didn't know how he was going to comfort Ian, or if he would even want to see Huber, no matter what Brad said. But he couldn't leave Ian alone.

Huber pulled out of the parking garage and started driving towards Ian's apartment, even though he didn't know whether or not Ian was even there. Brad hadn't told him where he was, after all, but Huber wasn't about to stop and find out. He'd go to Ian's place and if he wasn't there, maybe Omar would know where he was.

He took in a deep breath, exhaled, and turned on the radio to try and distract himself as he drove, grip tight on the steering wheel. Wouldn't do to get in an accident here and now.

Ian's apartment complex was a good thirty minutes away from Huber's place, and although he contemplated stopping to call him and find out where he was, that sense of shame from the fight earlier kept him from dialing Ian's number. He felt terrible knowing that what he had said was probably only compounding how shitty Ian felt right now, even if Huber was proved right. He got all the way there, and intended on pulling into the driveway of the complex when a license plate on the opposite side of the road caught his eye.

Ian's car was parked on the road across from his apartment complex, and Huber pressed on the brakes in confusion as he passed, looking out the window. It clicked when he scanned the park across the street and spotted a familiar sillouette on the swings, kicking their feet back and forth gently.

It was heartbreaking and Huber pressed a hand to his chest in sympathy as he pulled into a parking spot. He hesitated before getting out of the car, but the need to comfort Ian overrode his awkwardness.

He climbed out of the car and shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, steeling himself and crossing the damp grass.

Ian didn't look up until it was obvious that he was approaching them, their head jerking up in sudden fear. Holding his breath, Huber raised his hands slowly and met Ian's eyes (oh, they were teary, he was crying), waiting for permission to come closer.

He got it in the form of Ian's face crumpling into the most painful expression and his eyes watering, a quiet, broken sob escaping him as he covered his face.

"Mike, I..."

Huber felt his heart break into little pieces and hurried forward to embrace him, chest tight as Ian cried into his shoulder. It wasn't a situation he'd ever wanted to be in and he couldn't even summon up anger at Laura, the one who'd made Ian feel like this in the first place, consumed by the need to comfort his friend.

He inhaled shakily and reached up to stroke Ian's hair, his other arm tight around Ian's waist. "Hey, shh, I know. Come on."

As gently as he could, Huber walked them towards the playground structure, sitting Ian down on the steel stairs and perching next to him. Ian immediately hid in his chest again, hiccupping and obviously trying not to seem as emotional as he was a moment ago, not that it was tricking Huber.

Huber swallowed and wondered first if he was supposed to say something, then what it should be. He'd never been able to keep his mouth shut, after all. "Ian, I..."

"Don't, Huber, you were right."

"What – you think I wanted to be right?" Huber said incredulously, looking down although Ian's face was hidden. "Ian. No. This was the last thing I wanted."

"But, you said..."

"Ian, I said I didn't like her. That doesn't mean I wanted her to hurt you." Huber pressed a kiss to Ian's hair impulsively. "I could never want that. I wish you didn't have to go through this." He ran his hands gently across Ian's shoulders and down his back, trying to soothe him, remind him that Huber wasn't going anywhere. "Breakups suck and I'm sorry."

Sniffles from Ian filled the silence for a few moments before he pulled away slightly and rubbed his face. "Yeah. I understand. I'm sorry I'm such a crybaby," he mumbled.

"No, dude, you're not. Seriously, you're talking to the worst crybaby ever." Huber leaned over to put himself in Ian's line of sight, exaggerating the movement in hopes of just maybe getting a smile out of him. "You're allowed to be sad."

"Yeah, I know. It just... sucks."

"I know."

"And like, I knew you were right, yanno? I – I knew she wasn't good for me, that you didn't like her and that she didn't totally accept me. An' I was willing to go along with it anyway because she was the first person in such a long time to actually _like_ me," Ian ranted, though his voice was soft and more sorrowful than angry. "And it turns out I was just a fling, of course. A quick fuck. So she could say she was dating someone when certain people came onto her, and get the thrill of cheating with others."

Huber's hands clenched into fists in his lap. "She didn't - "

"No, she said she hadn't, but I wouldn't put it past her," Ian interrupted, resigned. "I should have expected it, really. Shouldn't have gotten my hopes up at all when I know they're just gonna be shattered anyway."

"Ian..."

"Thanks for tryin', Huber, but it turns out I really am hopeless and unlovable. Hah, what a surprise!" The sarcasm in Ian's voice couldn't disguise the pain, and Huber didn't know what to do, but couldn't sit here and watch him hurt anymore.

He shifted to sit on the stair below Ian, keeping his balance with his hands on Ian's knees as he peered underneath the fringe of hair hiding Ian's eyes. "Hey. Ian."

"Hmm."

"Stop saying things like that," Huber pleaded. "Look, I know – well, this doesn't really do much to counter your experiences, but you're _so_ loved. By the community, by the other Gametrailers guys, by – by me. I love you," whispered Huber, staring up into his blue eyes, and even though his intent wasn't to confess he couldn't help sounding desperate, wanting Ian to understand.

"And, and I know you've been through a _lot_ of shitty relationships, and I'm sorry, but it's not going to be like that forever, you know? You're gonna find the one and get your happily ever after. I know it."

Huber trailed off, not sure what else to say to convince Ian of his worth but knowing he _had_ to.

The wind rustled the trees in absence of conversation. Ian let out a breathless laugh and swept his hair back, eyes bright in the distant streetlamp light, watching him steadily. "You mean it?"

"Every word," Huber said fervently.

Ian tangled his hands in the front of Huber's hoodie, leaned down and kissed him.

It was nothing like he'd imagined it, really; they bumped noses sort of painfully and he could taste the salt of Ian's tears and it was rough and frantic and Huber didn't know how to react, didn't know what to do except kiss back desperately, hands clutching at Ian's arms so he didn't fall backwards off the stair. It was sudden but wonderful and as Ian let out a gasp that sounded more like a sob against his lips, Huber realized it was _wrong_.

He pulled away, panting, "N-no, Ian, we can't," and felt terrible at the way Ian recoiled, horrified at his own actions.

"I'm sorry – "

"No, Ian, it's okay, I just..." Huber couldn't look at him as he forced the words out, couldn't bear to watch his expression shift. "I can't be your rebound. I want this to _mean_ something."

"But it does mean something!"

Huber glanced up at him and knew without a shadow of a doubt that Ian wasn't lying. Whatever reason he had for kissing Huber, it wasn't merely because he was upset and needed some sort of comfort from whoever was around; it was because Huber was _Huber._ Whatever that meant, he didn't know, but it didn't change the fact that... "I know," he said softly. "But you just went through a breakup and you're crying and emotional and I don't want you to do anything you're gonna regret. Let's just... lemme cheer you up tonight, yeah? As friends."

He felt stifled, like a heavy weight had settled on his chest and wouldn't lift until he knew what Ian was thinking, whether or no he'd ruined everything.

A warm hand fell over his and Huber looked up to find Ian watching him. Tear tracks sparkled on his cheeks but he attempted to smile. "Y-yeah, okay," he rasped. "I know you came all the way out here, and it's sorta dumb, but, uh, I don't really wanna be at home right now. Can we go back to your place?"

Huber sighed in relief. "Yeah, of course. D'you – you wanna go inside and get some stuff first?"

"Nah, I don't need Omar to see me like this," Ian joked. His grip tightened on Huber's as he got to his feet, pulling Mike along with him. "He's probably not even home, anyway, so we' d just get caught tryin' to fend off Bender for fifteen minutes."

"Ha, true. Okay, then. Come on." Huber took a few steps and slowed when he could tell Ian wasn't following by the way his arm got yanked backwards. He looked back worriedly. "Ian?"

Ian hesitated, eyes shadowed by his hair, biting his lip like he wanted to say something and Huber _wanted_ him to say it, wanted him to feel comfortable. He nodded in encouragement, waiting, but Ian just shrugged and caught up with him, keeping their fingers laced together as they walked.

"Thanks, Huber."

* * *

 

Huber wasn't quite sure where they were supposed to go from here. Beyond the initial making-Ian-feel-better process, of course.

Although he knew he couldn't instantly mend Ian's broken heart, the ice cream they picked up on the way home was a start. That and reruns of Buffy. Ian needed the strong female character right about now.

Huber kept it quiet for once, with a no-pressure conversation to distract him and a comforting arm around Ian's waist when he moved into Huber's space of his own accord. He put aside his own feelings for the night -- being so close to Ian was nice, but the point was to make him feel better, not to let himself freak out over how warm he was or how his hair smelled like flowers. Huber was Ian's friend before anything else and he was going to deal with it.

This strategy worked until the next morning when Huber woke up to find Ian in his kitchen, making breakfast in an oversized t-shirt of Huber's and his boxers. Then it was impossible to forget that _hey, I am so fucking in love with Ian Hinck_. But Ian turned around and smiled at him and said "Hey, sorry, I used the last of your eggs," and he dealt with it.

Ian hugged him when he parked outside his apartment complex and whispered "Thank you for being my friend" and he dealt with it.

Ian bought him lunch the next day and genuinely laughed at one of his jokes for the first time in weeks, and Huber was so happy to have him relatively back to normal that he dealt with it.

It was almost a non-issue, really. Huber had come to the sensible conclusion that the kiss was just because Ian was upset and needed physical comfort at the time, and that was okay. He would never return Huber's feelings, and that was okay.

Really.

* * *

 

Saturday, December 18th

**Ian**

4:13pm

_Hey are you busy tonight I wanna talk_

4:13pm

_Shit wait that sounds bad_

4:13pm

_Not about anything bad just about good stuff_

4:14pm

_I think. I hope :)_

**Michael**

4:16pm

_Haha I think I can make time for you :)_

**Ian**

4:17pm

_Of course you can ;)_

4:17pm

_Leaving now, will pick up dinner, ttyl <3_

What passed for winter in California had arrived, which meant Huber started wearing jackets over his plaid button ups and holiday decorations covered the office. A cool breeze swept into the bullpen every time someone opened the door, Brad had actually brought the Comfort Zone in a couple of times, and Gametrailers' End of the Year awards were in full swing. It was a little unfortunate that Huber spent most of his free time working instead of celebrating the holidays, but he usually didn't go home until the actual week of Christmas anyway, so it wasn't like he had much to do otherwise besides catch up on his huge backlog of games. (2016 was gonna be the Year of _Games._ )

Ian was leaving to go home for Christmas in the next week, so it wasn't surprising that he wanted to meet up before his flight. It was a bit of a shock, though, to open the door to a bright bouquet of flowers looming in his face.

"O-oh -"

"Hiii, Huber! Mind if I come in?" The flowers sunk down to reveal Ian grinning at him, cute with his sparkly blue eyes and red nose and windswept hair from the December chill.

"Oh, um, yeah!" Huber stepped back to let him in, flustered. "What's with the flowers?"

"They're for you! It's my apology bouquet."

Ian kicked his shoes off and pressed the flowers into Huber's arms incessantly, setting a bag of what was presumably dinner on the kitchen table. _They're for me?_ Huber felt his cheeks warm and tentatively smelled the flowers. "What kinds are they? And I'm confused, you don't have anything to apologize for."

"The yellow ones are daffodils –" nearly the entire bouquet was yellow, " – and the other ones were like, ambrosia and jonquil or somethin'. I dunno. You can look up their meanings later," Ian winked at him playfully, laughing when Huber flushed more. "And I definitely do have to apologize, but we'll talk about that later. Food?"

"Um, okay..."

It still didn't quite make sense, but Ian was smiling at him and Huber wasn't about to protest. He bustled around trying to find something large enough to serve as a vase (he didn't, they ended up in a pot) while Ian unpacked the Chinese he'd picked up on the drive over. They spent dinner on the couch, equally driving the conversation as they tended to do. (Whenever there was a lull Ian would reiterate "I can't believe you don't own any vases" and they'd strike up an argument once again, always leading somewhere different.)

It was just nice to have Ian back.

Huber still felt bad about his breakup and their fight, but Ian seemed to have gotten over it. Then again, Ian was a lot of things on the outside. Huber wasn't willing to pry, didn't want to dredge up bad memories, but he did worry. Too much, probably.

"Hey, Huber. Hubey... Mike."

"Ah!" Huber jumped, focus snapping back to Ian. His friend grinned and stopped poking his shoulder. "Sorry. Got distracted."

"I know." Ian reached over and set his empty plate on the coffee table, settling back into the couch and tucking his legs underneath him, a soft look on his face. Huber swallowed and mimicked him, perhaps subconsciously. "Remember when I said I wanted to talk?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I don't, anymore. Right now I sorta just want to kiss you again."

Huber gaped at him, unable to comprehend Ian's smile or the nervous look in his eyes, stuck on his words. At first he thought he'd heard Ian wrong. "Um, sorry?"

"Yeah. I mean, if you're into that. It's cool if you're not, it just – well, it seemed like it. Back when – you know."

"Um." Huber blinked. "Hang on, lemme get this straight. You want to... _kiss_ me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Hah, well..." Ian used both hands to sweep his hair back, wincing at Huber's incredulous tone. He wouldn't meet Huber's eyes and his words were rushed, as though he'd rehearsed this. "I get it, now. Why you were so helpful when I was hooking up with people, but you always seemed kinda sad when I talked about it. And don't argue, I can read you like a book. The thing is, when I met Laura and started hanging out with her, I was so fuckin' thrilled just to meet someone that might have liked me that I... probably got way too attached right off the bat, you know how I am. You're the same way."

Huber nodded slowly; it was the truth. (He'd called Brad his best friend the first day they'd met, and that wasn't strange for a kindergartener, but he wasn't sure what he'd do if Brad hadn't stuck around for the past twenty-three years.)

"Yeah. So I got scared when you told me you didn't like her. I didn't want to have to choose between the two of you – didn't have to, I guess, cause she' fuckin' dumped me and reminded me that everythin' people have ever said about me is right."

"Ian –"

"No, hang on, I gotta say this. I was a fuckin' wreck when you found me, dude, and I mean like, I was having _bad_ thoughts. And you can't really fix that, sorry, but you said that stuff and I – I _got it_."

Ian was looking at him desperately, hands clenched in the couch cushions as he leaned into Huber's space, imploring with him. Huber wondered vaguely if this tightness in his chest was because of his emotions or because he couldn't breathe.

"You – you got it?"

"Yeah. I got that you've – you like me. I think. You've liked me for a while now, haven't you?"

 _Oh my God._ All Huber could do was nod.

"Yeah. An' that whole time you were helping – oh, I'm sorry, that must have sucked," Ian realized, eyes widening in sympathy.

Huber could feel his face tingling with heat, and he couldn't stand to see Ian looking at him like that. "Uh, it's okay, it wasn't that bad," he lied nervously.

"Tch, yeah, right. I know how I would feel if I was helping, uh, the person I liked try to find a date that wasn't me. So I gotta thank you, I guess. Even if it ended badly." Ian chuckled softly.

"Uh, it's cool. You're welcome."

Ian seemed to have run out of things to say finally, settling back into the cushions. Huber could still feel his heart racing.

So Ian knew, now, that Huber liked him. And he hadn't said he returned the affection, but he _had_ said he wanted to kiss Huber again, which seemed like a good sign, yeah? Unless it was just the kissing he was after. Which would be okay, probably, but Huber had never really thought of himself as a good kisser so it wouldn't make much sense – Huber almost considered saying that if that were the case, Ian would be better off going to Brad. (Not that he'd ever kissed Brad, of course.) But sitting here trying to figure out what Ian was thinking wouldn't work; trying to figure out what Ian was thinking _never_ worked.

"So, uh… what now, then?" he said.

"Oh!" Ian jumped. "Uh, yeah. So, like, you said you didn't want to be my rebound and I _totally_ get that, dude. But you're… really important to me, yanno? And if you were willing to maybe try us out? That'd be… cool. We'd take it slow, obviously – "

"Ian. Are you… asking me out?"

"Um… yeah."

Huber knew from experience that he had a tendency to overwhelm people when he was excited, but he couldn't help it. The throw pillow went flying off the couch as he scrambled to hug Ian, who went stiff and then laughed as Huber embraced him.

"Oh, you beautiful human being," he mumbled fondly, patting Huber's shoulder as Mike nodded vigorously.

"Yes," he repeated under his breath.

Ian chuckled. "Yes to us dating or yes to you being a beautiful human being?"

"The first one, obviously, Ian."

"I dunno, I think both are good ideas," Ian teased, tilting his head down to look at Huber snuggled against his shoulder, and he was so close, and Huber remembered being this close to him, remembered what it was like to kiss him, wondered if it would be better now that Ian wasn't crying. "Why don't you find out," Ian whispered, reading his mind.

"O-okay."

It was.

* * *

 

Sunday, January 3rd

**Ian**

7:41am

_Hey why'd you delete your tinder? I liked chatting w u on there lol_

**Michael**

7:56am

_Good morning_

**Ian**

7:56am

_Lol good morning <3 _

7:56am

_So?_

**Michael**

7:57am

_Oh uh I figured I didnt need it anymore. Neither of us are looking for someone to date right??_

**Ian**

7:57am

_True <3 <3 <3_

7:57am

_You're gonna pick me up from the airport right?_

**Michael**

7:59am

_As long as I can go back to sleep afterwards_

**Ian**

8:00am

_Look whos talking its 6am for me lol_

8:00am

_I wont get in until like noon la time but I think we could figure out sleeping arrangements_

8:01am

_See you then? I gotta go_

**Michael**

8:01am

_For SURE!!!_

**Ian**

8:01am

_< 3_


End file.
